


Sing From the Heart

by Marks



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Getting Together, Leaving Home, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Singing, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: Petra grinned and clapped. “You are having a beautiful voice. I know!” she exclaimed. “Brigid has singing but it is very different from the singing Fódlan is having. Will you come to Brigid and sing? You can teach me, too!”The one where Dorothea gives Petra singing lessons.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Sing From the Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophieAyase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieAyase/gifts).



> I hope you like this! Always good to see someone who loves Dorothea so much.

One thing Garreg Mach never lacked was drama. However, it was unfortunate that so little of that was channelled into performance. Of course Dorothea still had chaotic choir practices led by Professor Byleth, and whenever she found herself lonely for the Mittelfrank, Manuela gladly lent her voice, but it was different from when she was still with the opera company, breathlessly finishing her nightly performances to thunderous applause.

Still. It was vain to want that adulation back, wasn’t it? Dorothea had come to Garreg Mach to achieve her goals, even if they had been sidelined over the years with Edelgard’s ambitions taking precedence. But even peace-loving Dorothea could see the tide of the war was flowing in their direction. Snagging security through a rich husband seemed so unnecessary now, so her old singing career was at the forefront of her mind more often again.

“I will give you gold for a thought.”

Dorothea looked up and found Petra standing over her, a smile stretched across her face, and at that look, a matching smile spread across her own. It was almost impossible to see Petra smile and not try to match it; she’d even caught Hubert hiding a smile behind his hand once or twice. 

“Petra!” said Dorothea. “Sit! Can I get you some tea?”

Petra sat, but shook her head. “I cannot stay long,” she said. “I wish to spar with Ferdinand and too much tea makes— hmm.” She paused and covered her bare stomach with one hand. “It goes sloshy inside my belly. It is not good for swordplay.”

“I imagine it wouldn’t be,” Dorothea said, laughing softly. “Did you need something?”

“Yes,” said Petra. “As I passed, I saw that you were staring out at the gardens, but you weren’t seeing gardens.” She waved her hand. “You were looking beyond, so I was getting to wonder what you were seeing instead.”

“Oh.” Dorothea looked down at her lap. “I suppose you did catch me daydreaming.” She looked up again, and Petra gave another encouraging smile. “The war is finally turning in our direction for good, thanks to the professor and Edie, don’t you think?”

Petra nodded fiercely. “The Adrestian Empire will be uniting all of Fódlan and then Brigid will be finally free. I will need to prepare for being queen.”

“I suppose you have your future all mapped out, don’t you?”

“You do not?”

Dorothea shook her head. “Not the way you do. I could teach magic, or work for the new government, but—” She hesitated.

“But?” Petra prompted.

“But I think I want to sing again.”

Petra grinned and clapped. “You are having a beautiful voice. I know!” she exclaimed. “Brigid has singing but it is very different from the singing Fódlan is having. Will you come to Brigid and sing? You can teach me, too!”

“Oh!” Dorothea said. The idea of bringing opera somewhere new, of leaving Fódlan entirely, was an exciting one, but it seemed like such a big risk. “I’ve never taught singing before, especially not to royalty. Do you think I’d be any good at it?”

“I think that Dorothea is patient and kind and can do whatever she believes in,” Petra said earnestly, so earnestly in fact that Dorothea felt her cheeks and ears grow warm. She held her teacup up to her face again so she could blame it on the steam. 

It was very, very hard to say no to Petra; Dorothea had never been any good at it before and she certainly hadn’t improved over the last five years in that regard. Petra reached across the table and squeezed Dorothea’s hand, still smiling.

“Please give thought to it,” she said, and didn’t let go of Dorothea’s hand until she stood again to leave. Dorothea nodded, not trusting her voice, and watched as Petra left, still staring as Petra tossed her hair and shot a brilliant smile over her shoulder as she went.

  


* * *

  


“Dorothea? Dorothea?”

Someone touched Dorothea’s wrist, startling her. Ferdinand looked a bit red in the face and apologetic, and it made her remember when she’d fly off the handle just seeing his face. “Did you need something, Ferdie?”

“The meeting is over,” Ferdinand said. He glanced to the side, where Edelgard and Hubert were also watching her expectantly, and just beyond them the professor was staring out at some wyverns circling the high tower across the grounds. It wasn’t unusual for them to continue war councils once everyone else had left, but Dorothea was almost always the first one out the door. The only person on the Black Eagle Strike Force with less taste for war was Linhardt and he was too sleepy to bolt as soon as meetings adjourned. 

“Are you feeling all right, Dorothea?” Edelgard asked. “If you don’t mind me saying so, I noticed you weren’t quite with us today. That’s not like you.”

“Have you ever been to Brigid, Edie?”

If Edelgard was surprised in this change in topic, she didn’t let on. “Not yet,” she said, “but as soon as the war is over, I plan on a formal visit. I want Petra’s people to know that I also think of them as Petra’s people, not as part of Fódlan.” She looked chagrined. “It’s not much, but I at least owe them that. Why do you ask?”

Dorothea hummed. “Petra asked me to move there to bring our opera to them. To teach it to Brigid, and maybe I could learn their songs in turn, and bring them back here.”

“Oh,” Edelgard said, and then it was like something clicked inside her head, because her eyes brightened and she smiled. “Oh! What a wonderful idea. I’m so happy for both of you.”

“I haven’t said yes yet!” Dorothea said.

Edelgard looked surprised. “Why not?”

“It’s a big change,” Dorothea mumbled, looking down at the table again. She felt stupid, though she didn’t quite know why. “I’ve only lived in Enbarr and at the monastery. What if I don’t like it there?” _What if I fail?_ she thought, but didn’t say.

“Well, you’ll have Petra,” Edelgard reminded her. That was true. That was, in fact, a very big plus. “And if you don’t mind me saying so, I think you’d be a wonderful diplomat.”

Ferdinand nodded vigorously. “I agree with the Emperor.”

“Petra loves her people and her people love her,” Hubert piped up from across the room. “Brigid is a tropical paradise. The scenery is breathtaking and the temperatures are comfortable year-round. You could spend your days singing and your nights on the beach.” It was kind of funny, hearing Hubert sound like he was reading from a travelogue. “What sensible person wouldn’t love that?”

“You would hate it,” Ferdinand told Hubert cheerfully.

“Of course,” Hubert agreed, “but Dorothea is a much more sensible person than me.”

  


* * *

  


That night, Dorothea knocked on Petra’s door. 

“Come in!” called Petra from inside. “The door is being unlocked!”

Dorothea let herself in and found Petra lounging on her floor, surrounded by a half-dozen throw pillows. Petra lit up like a thousand candles when she saw who her guest was. She would really have to stop doing that if she expected Dorothea to teach her anything; breathlessness was bad for singing, after all.

“I’ve been thinking about your offer,” Dorothea began, business-like, avoiding Petra’s face so she could get through her planned speech. “If you were serious about it, then I would like to accept.”

“I was serious as an attack of the heart,” Petra said, leaping up to clasp Dorothea’s hands in hers. It was hard for Dorothea to miss how warm Petra’s hands were, and with Petra standing so close, she also noticed Petra’s beautiful eyes, her heart-shaped face, and how sweet she smelled.

Dorothea cleared her throat. She was there on important business and shouldn’t be distracted. “Where did you learn that phrase?”

“Caspar taught me,” Petra said.

“Oh?” Dorothea laughed. “He’s never been serious a day in his life.”

“I know!” said Petra, also laughing. “That’s why he said I could have it instead.”

Dorothea smiled, fond. There were so many ridiculous people in her life; could she really leave them all behind for something new and frightening? Edelgard’s voice reminding her _Well, you’ll have Petra_ echoed in her ears, and she knew she could. The other way around — the way where Petra went back to Brigid and left Dorothea behind — seemed unthinkable.

“If you let me give you a voice lesson and you don’t want to kill me afterward, I’ll come to Brigid with you,” Dorothea said.

“I will never want that, not once in my whole life,” Petra said, meeting Dorothea's eyes, serious as a heart attack.

  


* * *

  


Dorothea still did a double-take every time she entered the old, crumbling cathedral. She'd never been much of a believer in the Church. How could she be, having lost everything as a child? But she loved the gleaming stained glass windows, the high ceilings, the lit candles everywhere, giving false assurance that no one could ever be lost to the shadows.

Even now, the damage was impressive in its way. The crumbling rubble was worse here than in any other part of the monastery, to say nothing of the impromptu skylight above them. If there was a goddess, surely the open ceiling made prayers travel faster with a great big open hole above them.

Petra hadn't arrived yet, which was fine. It gave Dorothea a chance to warm up, running scales and regulating her breathing. She pressed a palm to her diaphragm and let her voice soar. After a moment, she stopped to catch her breath.

"Beautiful," Petra interrupted and Dorothea's head swung in her direction, surprised.

"You're so quiet," she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"I am being sorry," Petra said. "I'm used to it from hunting. Quiet is normal."

Dorothea laughed. "Are you hunting me then?"

Petra only smiled, but it seemed different from her normal one— sly and knowing— and Dorothea shivered at her look.

"Well," Dorothea said. "Even if you're usually quiet, this will be a chance to get loud."

"Oh," said Petra, her smile widening. "I am also good at that."

Dorothea exhaled shakily and made a mental note to remember that look and those words later at night, when she was alone in her room. Now, though, she had a job to do.

In the echoing cathedral, Dorothea made Petra yawn and sigh, made her laugh when they hummed up and down the scales, and while in teaching mode, touched Petra's bare stomach freely, making sure she was breathing correctly.

Petra was a natural at singing, her voice small and sweet, and she took joy in it that Dorothea had only known her to have for weapons and hunting and her homeland before. But it made a perfect sort of sense, once Dorothea thought on it; Petra never did things by halves and she'd never approached something new with the hesitance that Dorothea herself sometimes felt. In that way, they were opposites— or complements, perhaps.

When they were done, Petra wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "That was good training. I will sleep very well tonight."

Dorothea laughed and led Petra out of the cathedral toward the dining hall for water. "Did I tire you out?" she asked as they walked together.

"I am not being surprised by that," Petra said. "Dorothea always works hard. On Brigid, we love hard workers. The people of Brigid will love you."

"So I passed the audition?"

"Of course," Petra said. "I did not need that to tell me. I already knew. After all, I am from Brigid."

Dorothea's face felt very warm, and not just from the exertion of the lesson. "We'll have to do it again, then. Just the two of us," she said, feeling bold. "Often," she added after a moment. She was glad they were walking and she did not have to say that while facing one another and looking into Petra's eyes.

But suddenly Petra stopped. Dorothea stopped, too, after realizing she was walking alone, and turned around.

"Dorothea," Petra said, taking two steps forward to once again clasp Dorothea hands, "please come home with me. It will be good for all. For the people of Brigid, for you, and I am knowing best it will be good for me."

"Well, who can say no to that?" Dorothea said, leaning in to press a kiss to Petra's cheek.

Petra's smile that followed could light up the world.

  


* * *

  


Dorothea blinked back tears, clutching a valise that hadn’t yet made it into the carriage that was to take them both through the countryside until they reached the docks near Fódlan’s Fangs. She took a deep breath. Off for a new adventure, one that strangely felt more like she was finally settling down.

Ferdinand swept both Petra and Dorothea into hugs and _he_ was having no issue holding back his emotions, handkerchief in hand to rub underneath his eyes as he bustled around helping the monastery guards load Petra and Dorothea’s things away for the long journey.

“When you visit — and you must visit, there’s no saying no to that — you will see an Fódlan that’s growing and flourishing,” Ferdinand assured them both.

“Let them concentrate on Brigid for the time being, all right, Ferdinand?” Edelgard said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She walked over and smiled up at Dorothea. It was flattering that the Emperor was also there to see them off. 

Dorothea hugged her and pulled back, holding her shoulders. “Oh, I will miss you most of all, Emperor Edie.”

Edelgard blushed a bit at that. “Do not forget us,” she said gruffly, turning her head to one side before bustling back toward the monastery’s entrance.

“Are you ready?” Petra asked, leaning out of the carriage and offering Dorothea a hand. Dorothea took it and let Petra pull her up to hold her close. They smiled at each other, still grinning as the driver closed the door and the horses began to pull away.

She would miss Fódlan, but not so much that she would turn down her new adventure. After all, she knew that in victory Edelgard would keep it safe. And looking over at Petra, it also helped that she wasn’t going alone.


End file.
